A Christmas Gift
by Tonkswyrda
Summary: Remus decides that even though he and Tonks arent together anymore, he should still give her the gift he made. it is, after all, nothing special. What could possibly happen?


This is Christmas, Christmas my dear;  
the time of year to be with the one that you love;  
then will you tell me, you'll never more roam;  
Christmas and new year will find you a home;  
there'll be no more sorrow;  
no grief or pain  
cause I'll be happy that its Christmas once again.

~Bells will be ringing

The bells were ringing out loudly in the village. Groaning, Remus pulled his pillow over his head. He didn't need another reminder that it was Christmas. All the carols, and the decorations, and the food- he didn't want any of it this year. This year, he despised Christmas.

Well, rather, he despised spending it alone.

It just wasn't right. Christmas was about being with the ones you love. Sure, Molly had invited him over, but he knew she wouldn't be there. Molly had been repeatedly dropping hints that Nymphadora would be spending her Christmas like he had spent most of his- lonely, unloved and cheerless. Even though she doubtless had a few invitations for Christmas dinner, she was rejecting them all, and he knew why. It was easier to be by yourself, he knew from experience. Then you didn't have to pretend.

He would be pretending. Harry would be there, all the kids- none of them knew he and Nymphadora had ever had anything together. So he would have to pretend. He wasn't only doing it for them though- if he pretended, then maybe, just maybe, it would stop being pretend and start being real. Maybe he could stop caring about her.

Probably not.

Sighing, and with the pillow still clamped tightly around his ears, even though the chiming had stopped, he rolled onto his side, and starred at the small wrapped box sitting on his bedside table. He'd meant to send it to her. A friendly gesture, nothing more- but after thinking about her reactions when he tried to be friendly to her, he had decided against it. Sitting up, he dropped the pillow and tossed the box between his hands, chewing the inside of his cheek. What harm could it do, really? It wasn't anything special- he'd found a small, elegant stone with a strip of opal running through it, and had polished it up and put it on a leather cord. Nothing special at all. Tapping the box now, he thought. She wouldn't go to the burrow. He didn't have anything he could do with it, or anyone else to give it to... he checked his watch. She'd still be awake just after midnight, right? Surely she would be. He'd just drop it in and leave, dress so that it looked like he hadn't been in bed trying to sleep.

Nothing could go wrong with that. He'd stick to his guns, no matter what she said. He wouldn't be there long enough for her to say much anyway.

So it was decided. It was better than laying in bed thinking about her, and worrying about everything else that was going on as well.

Her flat was the only house on the street with no lights on when he apparated into her street. Loud music was thumping from every other house, and there were people loitering, dancing and drinking in front yards. None of them paid him any attention as he kept to the shadows, reaching her dark front door within half a minute. He had been wrong though- there was one small light coming from inside. Anxiously, and hoping against hope it wasn't her flatmate who answered, he knocked four times.

He was lucky in only one respect; it was Nymphadora who opened the door.

Unfortunately, upon seeing who it was, her previously exhausted features had gone blank. After a pause, she slammed the door in his face.

He knocked again. "Tonks... please let me in."

"Go away!" She didn't sound angry. She sounded almost scared. "Can't you leave me alone, just for Christmas?"

"I will! Please..." he leant his forehead against the door. "I just need a minute. I've got something for you."

The door opened a crack, and he pulled back quickly. One dark eye was starring suspiciously at him. He held up the small box for her to see. He heard a loud sigh, and she pulled the door open, standing back to allow him to pass. He slipped past her, trying not to look like he was looking at her whilst taking in her rumpled, tired appearance. Needless to say, she noticed him looking and glared.

She was a wreck, Remus thought. Her makeup was dark and smudged around her eyes, and it was clear she hadn't slept in a few nights. Instead of her usual tight jeans and band t-shirts she was wearing a large cardigan (which he was almost positive was his) and lose pyjama shorts, which only emphasised how much smaller she had gotten. Without her customary shade of pink hair and her bright smile, she almost looked like a completely different person.

"What?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. She looked even more tired in the flickering light coming from her fireplace.

"Nothing." He lied, turning away from her, as if he was looking around her apartment. "Where's your flat mate?"

"With her boyfriend for Christmas." She replied blandly.

He nodded. This was so much harder than he had expected. He hadn't thought she'd gotten this bad... then again, he hadn't seen her in so long, what with her being stationed at Hogsmeade and him undercover for the order.

"You said you had something for me." Her eyes were drilling into him, and unlike him, she wasn't bothered if he caught her staring.

"Oh, yes. Right." He held out the box. "Happy Christmas. I forgot to owl it, so I figured I'd just drop it off before I went to sleep..." Another lie.

Brow furrowed, she took the box, letting the purple ribbon fall to the ground. A small gasp escaped her as she lifted the lid.

"Remus..." Her face softened as she looked up at him. "This is... well, it's beautiful. Thank you." She pulled it over her head. It was the most sincere she sounded towards him since he had broken things off with her.

"It's nothing, really..." he muttered, but he could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. Inwardly, he cursed himself. He wasn't supposed to be acting like this...

"Well, I guess I should go, I mean, you look very busy..." Stammering, he turned to leave, but her small, warm hand caught his own.

He looked around. Her dark eyes were wide, and her face was pale. "Please stay? I've missed you."

He had missed her too. He couldn't let her know how much though. But he couldn't leave her in this state. Not alone. On Christmas.

"I... okay." She gave a small smile, and he followed her to the couch in the sitting room. Yawning, she curled up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"You need to sleep." he told her quietly. "You look exhausted."

She shrugged. "Work." Her eyelids were slowly drooping though, but she kept shaking her head as if to wake herself up.

"You can sleep now, you know."

She shook her head. "You're here. I don't want to wake up and find that you're gone, and I've missed spending any civilised time with you again."

"Civilised?" Remus asked, amused.

"We always fight now." She frowned at him. "I hate arguing with you. I don't want to argue with you. I just want to-" she cut off, looking away.

He could feel the smile spreading across his face, even faster than the blush spreading across hers.

"No fights then. Not tonight."

"Alright. You promise?"

"Promise. And I promise not to leave. You need to sleep; I'll stay. I'll be here when you wake up."

She looked cynical. "Really?"

He wrapped an arm around her small shoulders. "Really really."

"Okay then."

He let her talk; about work, about her friends, about the order, about music and books and anything she wanted. And when she fell asleep tucked up against his chest, he conjured a blanket, and let her stay there. After all, it was Christmas.

He wished things could stay like this. Just the two of them; no war, no spiteful society telling him everything he did was wrong. If he wasn't what he was, everything between them would be so, so much easier.

Because the truth was, he still loved her. She knew it, too. But he was doing the right thing by ending things, by letting her be with someone younger, someone less dangerous. Someone less likely to try and rip her throat out once a month.

She murmured his name in her sleep, and he couldn't help but smile. Carefully, he brushed a strand of mousy hair off her face. He hated seeing her like this. Everyone blamed him, and he knew it was his fault.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so, so sorry. Please get better. I... I hate seeing you like this."

"You said no fighting." She muttered, and he froze, realising she was awake.

"We're not." He said stiffly.

"Not yet. But a sentence like that always leads to you saying you're too old and poor and dangerous, and blaming everything on yourself, and me yelling at you to get a grip and stop caring about what other people think, and just accept how you feel about me. Because I'd bet my broomstick your feeling never changed." She sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, looking at him huffily.

"Now who's fighting?"

"I'm not. I'm just stating the facts." She retorted, crossing her arms.

"Well if we're stating facts, I'd like to state that you are wearing my cardigan."

She looked down, her frown faltering. "It is." She lifted the collar to her face. "It's nice. It smells like you."

Remus was rather taken aback by this comment. Never before had he been told (well, not seriously anyway, Sirius being an idiot didn't count) that he smelled nice.

Before he could retort though, Tonks had already dropped the cardigan again and shrugged. "Let's not argue, please. It's Christmas."

He sighed. "If you insist. I think you secretly like arguing though."

"Secretly I do," she admitted, "but only because I know I'll win someday. You'll see what a colossal sod you've been, and you'll apologize and come back."

"You think so, do you?"

He had to admit, she was probably going to win that one.

"Sure do." Moving closer, she gave him a coy kiss on the cheek. "I give you till new years to crack."

He rolled his eyes and she jumped off the couch and flounced into the kitchen. There was such a noticeable change in her when he was around, and they were both in a good mood. It made him happy to see her happy. She needed to be happy more often.

"Do you want a coffee?" she called from the kitchen.

"Yes, thanks." He replied, before sighing loudly to himself.

Right now, he highly doubted she would have to wait till new Years.

In fact, five minutes seemed a bit more accurate.


End file.
